Immortal Eight
by Sapphira Pendragon
Summary: Humans and bots crowd the streets of San Fransokyo. From the shadows an enemy watches. Tadashi lives a double life. By day he's a prodigy. By night he's Inferno, leader of heroes. Elsa, a gifted transfer, is a cyborg; a second-class citizen with superhuman abilities and a dark past What starts as a friendship soon becomes a fight for the future of San Fransokyo and for their hearts
1. Before We Begin

It should be explicitly understood and accepted that there lies a fine line between superheroes and super villains wherein the vigilante walks. Often she walks this line alone, teetering between the gray areas of the world, daring to venture into the murky depths and return unscathed. There is none to guide her, but her own wits. She must learn to trust herself and only herself. It is her only rule.

Trust no one.

Some admire her. Her independence and prowess remain an inspiration. Taking the law into her own hands to enact justice holds a certain allure for some. But few ever act on this urge. She is a class all to herself.

Untouchable.

Immortalized in the minds of civilians.

Some are wary. How can they trust someone who wears the same mystique as the villains they quail under? Hero work is simply so much more respectable. They are good, law-abiding citizens, predictable. Smile for the cameras, kiss wriggling babies, wink and wave at swooning fans, accept badly drawn artwork where they could swear they were meant to be portrayed as a slug. These are the brave men and women the citizens of Arendelle and the European Union can look up to.

Every city, every continent had them. Corona, New Beijing, Toulouse, Farafarah. And San Fransokyo; her final destination.

Some grudgingly accept her existence. It's not like they could ever stop her and it would be a complete waste of resources to sick their heroes on her. As long as she delivers villains to their prisons and asylums, they keep their protests to a minimum. The few that she doesn't… Well, eventually they get over it. Secretly they agree with her.

Prison is just too good for some.

Heroes don't like her much and make no point of hiding it. She is arrogant, taunting, acting outside the law the way she does. Who does she think she is? Her gimmicks make them uneasy. She is ruthless, chaotic. She questions their sense of justice, rocks their held-firm beliefs. Recklessness follows her every step. But perhaps it is her rejection of their team that they really dislike. She is an army of one.

A loose cannon.

Villains turn white and clammy at the mere mention of her name. She's unpredictable. And unlike the heroes they mock and scorn, she knows every one of their games and plays with skill that rivals the worst criminal. She holds the cards. Like them, she walks in the dark, avoiding the sun. Hatred broils beneath their skin quickly enough once the terror of her memory subsides. She better hope they never catch her wily self, because if they do, she knows they'll make her wish she'd never been born.

And she? This unseen savior? Sleepless eyes and buried memories, she lives as a shadow. Trying to forget the searing pain in her chest that reminds her why she subjects herself to dread and horror and the sickening crack her titanium fist makes when it collides with a killer and the flecks of blood in her silvery hair. What this life of deception has cost her. By night she is strong, dangerous. It is the only time she feels sure of herself. When somehow the sweat and the blood and the tears of her enemies makes her beautiful. By day… she is everything and nothing at all, somebody and nobody special.

The life a vigilante is not one to be envied. Heroes and villains, white and black, light and dark. Sometimes she longs for such simplicity.

But the life of a vigilante is a necessary one. And if she doesn't do it, who will? Who will stand against evil when everyone but the best of their heroes have deserted the cause?

Who will stand when there's no one left?

* * *

**A/N: Hi friends. Sapphira here. Just wanted to give credit where credit's due. While this is obviously a Tadelsa piece because I absolutely adore this ship, it's heavily influenced by Marissa Meyer's The Lunar Chronicles: Book 1: Cinder. Anyway that's all for now. Thanks for reading. God bless :)  
**


	2. Espressos and Phantoms

**A/N: As promised, the revised version is finally here. Ch.2 will come next week. I truly do apologize. I've been awfully busy this week. Slowly but steadily this story will progress. I'm thinking Sunday for posting days. Anyways, enjoy. **

* * *

Tadashi was taking a shortcut, zipping down the alley behind the San Fransokyo's main street when his net whistled from deep in the pocket of his blazer, followed by a monotonous automated voice that he swore he would alter when time permitted, _"Message received for Hamada Tadashi san redirected from the San Fransokyo Criminal Apprehension Department. Accept or deny?"_

His own apprehension mounting, Tadashi swerved just in time to avoid grounding the side of his motorcycle into the back of a woman's boutique. Jamming down hard on the brakes, he killed the engine and fished the now silent net screen from the pocket of his cargo shorts. White blue light pooled into the twilight hours, skimming over the controls of his bike and catching on the contours of his angular face.

Finally.

After half a year of night watch, half a year of near sleepless nights, they'd found something.

They'd found him.

San Fransokyo would be one thief, one gang freer.

"_Hamada Tadashi san,"_ his net repeated, "_Accept or –"_

"Accept!" Tadashi near-shouted excitedly, nearly strangling the net in his hands.

He expected to be greeted with a vidlink, or at least access to the classified files concerning Royal, but all he got was a slow strolling of militaristic text.

27 AUG 179 T.E.

RE: CASE #SFCAD2846669013, FILED ON 2 MARCH 179 F.E.

THIS COMMUNICATION IS TO INFORM COMMISSIONER NAKAYAMA SHI OF SAN FRANSOKYO, JAPAN, EASTERN COMMONWEALTH, THAT AS OF 18:43 ON 27 AUG 179 T.E. THE CASE OF THE POKER-PLAY GANG LEADER ROYAL HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED TO THE PRAETORIANS. WE CONSIDER THE JOB TOO ADVANCED FOR IMMORTAL SEVEN'S TALENTS AND SUGGEST PLACING UNDER THE LEADERSHIP OF THE PRAETORIANS FOR THE TIME BEING.

WE THANK THE HONORABLE COMMISSIONER NAKAYAMA SHI FOR USE OF OUR SERVICES.

The comm was followed by a video ad everyone had seen ten hundred thousand times and counting, reminding all hovercraft pilots to make sure their harnesses were secure before take off. A cheery robot waggled his metal-framed finger at the viewer, "Buckle up every time!"

Tadashi stared at words until they began to blur black, white, gray under his sudden swell of rage. Tiny fissures snaked into the screen from where his fingers crunched into the thin plastic.

"Unbelievable." The words _TOO ADVANCED chuckled_ back at him.

Tadashi spun off his bike, stalking down the alley and resisting the urge to hurl his already damaged net at an overflowing dumpster.

_Taken off case? Case too advanced? Placed under the _leadership_ of the Praetorians?!_

"Come on!" Tadashi growled, shoving his net back into his pocket to save it from being completely mutilated and he was swindled out of three hundred units to get it fixed. Instead, he snatched his cap from his head, balling it in his fist while running the other over his cropped black hair.

"Unbelievable." He repeated incredulously, shoving his hat back on and rubbing his tired eyes. He slumped against the dense August humidity. All their work and nothing. They'd gotten more work done on the Royal case in six months than the police had gotten in _six_ years. Six! The only reason his team was being taken off case was because unlike the other superhero teams of San Fransokyo –the Night Watch, Praetorians, Ascendants, Sailor Sensei, and the Liberators – they didn't have real powers. Never mind that their tech was unmatched primarily thanks to his little brother Hiro, who had woven each team member's talents into their uniforms and weapons.

But no one care because none of them had been born with a mutation.

A little quirk in their genetics.

They were second-class heroes and everyone new it.

Catching the smothering odors of grease and rotten vegetables from a nearby fast-food joints as he drew in deep breaths, he tried to rationalize himself out of his bubbling over anger.

He'd go to the department head – no – Inferno, leader of the Immortal Seven, would pay a little visit to the Criminal Apprehension Department, preferably with Anti-Gravity and Silver Samurai for backup. He'd convince them they were capable. That they were just as good as the Praetorians. They'd give back the case. He'd make sure of it.

"_Incoming call for Hamada Tadashi san from Robinson Darien san. Accept or deny?"_

Evidently his friends had heard the news and as he switched the net connection to the device in his ear, he made a mental note to have Hiro fiddle with his net. After so many years of calling him by his nickname, it was startling to hear his best friend called by his real one.

"Accept."

"_Tadashi, we have to –"_ Wasabi started nervously.

Turning the corner and striding purposely down the sidewalk, looking every part the successful college student, Tadashi replied.

"Wait, I'm going to prove I'm psychic and guess the reason you're calling."

"_Tadashi…" _

"Wait. I'm getting something."

"_Tadashi."_

"_What_?" He swiveled to avoid a crowd of girls he faintly recognized as SFI students.

"_Dude, this isn't something you can joke about."_

"I don't see why not. Someone had to lighten up the situation – oh, hey Saffy."

"S'up Tadashi." A girl with wild mane of curly brown hair – he thought she might be a graphic design major, but wasn't completely sure– tossed him a friendly wave before turning back to her friends.

"_Tadashi? Are you still there?"_

"Yeah, I'm here. How's the gang taking it?"

"_Surprisingly well… But um…" _Darien hesitated. Nothing new. He tended to overthink, overthink some more, and overthink on the side just to jazz things up for a change. Tadashi rolled his eyes, side-stepping to avoid a flailing hand belonging to a rather expressive middle-aged man.

"What?"

"_Hiro and Gogo want to take a vote on whether or not we should become vigilantes."_

"Nothing new."

"_Yeah, but we've never been blown off this bad before. They're pretty serious."_

"They'll never actually do it. They don't have the resources and once they cool down a bit they'll see reason. Don't worry about it. I'll talk to them." Tadashi assured him. "Anything else I should know?"

"_Well, Fred's pretty upset, but I think that has more to do with finally accepting we're called Immortal Seven instead of Fred's Angels. I mean granted he'd been working on that song for months but – hold up, Gogo's about to throw something –"_

From the background Tadashi heard someone shouting out murder threats over a not-so-catchy team song while another cajoled calmly.

_"Six intrepid friends lead by Fred, their leader, Fred. Fred's Angels, m-m-m."_

"_Let's not jump to conclusions guys. We don't know they've taken us off the case, right?"_

"_Fred's Angels, m-m-m. Harnessing the power of the sun with the ancient amulet they found in the attic. M-m-m–"_

"_Listen nitwit, if I have to listen to you sing that stupid song one more time –"_

"_Hold on Tadashi," _Wasabi said miserably, before yelling off line, "_Gogo, do not touch my tools! There's a place for everything – No!" _

Tadashi winced at Wasabi's horrified yelp, rubbing his ear painfully before jogging across the street to a tiny coffee shop. He drew in the sharp aroma, half-listening to the battle waging across line.

"_THE AMULET IS GREEN! M-M-M. IT'S PROBABLY AN EMERALD!"_

"_Don't throw my screwdriver! Honey take my net! Take it!" _

Falsely cheery, another voice piped into the line that nevertheless brought a grin to Tadashi's face.

"_Hello?"_

"Honey? Everything okay over there?" A small android chimed as Tadashi ducked into the blessedly cool shop, flying over and hovering mid-air in front of him. Scanning the shop, he was thankful to find it mostly empty aside from a bored-looking guy around his age slumped over his net screen at the counter.

"_Tadashi, do you think you could get to SFI in the hour?_" Honey asked as sweetly as her nickname implied._ "We have to talk to Callahan and Abigail. I think if we present the case properly to C.A.D. they'll put us back on. I've been doing some research into–"_

"_Welcome to Latte Haven. How may I be of service this evening?"_ The android chirped.

"Sorry Honey, I'm stopping for a coffee. I can be over in forty-five." Tadashi spared a glance at the droid and covered the transmitter on his net. "Hang on a moment." He told it. Its lights flickered as if irritated though he doubted its programming allowed for that particular emotion.

"_Okay. Sounds good."_ There was a loud crash and muffled cursing from her side of the line. _"And Tadashi?" _Honey sounded like she was biting her lip. "_Please hurry."_

"Always do." A soft tone ended the call and Tadashi gave the droid his full attention. Its body was glossy white, the shape of an upside down pear, and its crude design consisted of a basic scanner, optic, motion, and auditory sensors.

"_How may I be of service this evening?"_ Likely its voice was previously recorded too. Not very creative, but serviceable enough.

"Double espresso, one sugar." The android floated over to the man behind the counter, chiming again. He jumped, glanced up, shot it an annoyed glance as his gaze shifted to Tadashi, seemingly surprised there was a new customer in the shop. Heaving a sigh he slide to his feet and lumbered over to the coffee machine.

"Tink, go to the back and grab me more cups." He grunted and the android complied, its engine humming weakly as it puttered out of the main shop.

Tadashi slipped into one of the tall stools lining the counter, avoiding coffee stains, pulling out his net and calculating the fastest course to SFI, his mind whirling a mile a minute. He settled his chin on his palm as the barista punched his order into the dispenser. Technically it was Inferno Seven's night off from night watch, but he was more than a little tempted to go out later. The rest of the team would be eager as well. They'd have to be careful though. Commissioner Nakayama had long ago set up a rotating system that made sure no team tired out and the city was amply protected. His was a strict system and considered it an infraction if any hero was caught doing work off hours unless specifically specified. Today was Sunday so… Tadashi's jaw clenched and he grit his teeth. Sliding his finger across his net's keypad, he typed,

THE PRAETORIANS

8,958, 284 media hits.

As the barista finished his order he scrolled through fan clubs and whole websites devoted to Midnight Centurion, the team's handsome, charismatic leader. The sight of the cocky hero's smoldering grin was just enough to make his blood broil.

Complete zombies of the mayor and his department heads, the Praetorians were Immortal Seven's bitter rivals, who worked significantly more independently from San Fransokyo's governing bodies. While the freedoms entailed were a definite plus, independent teams were widely frowned upon, being as the fell just a couple steps away from the dreaded vigilante label. While Tadashi had never met a vigilante, he'd heard rumors about one in the European Union. No one knew anything about him or her aside from the fact that they were especially good at making the worst of villains disappear for good. All methods of termination went. He shuddered.

"You're a Praetorians fan?" Tadashi glanced up and avoided rolling his eyes when the man – Jason according to his nametag– after setting down his espresso, craned his neck to glance at his net. If by fan Jason meant he'd be somewhat concerned if they were very badly injured in a fight…maybe, then sure, he was a fan.

"Yeah," he lied, "I guess you could say that." Jason grinned giddily, looking not unlike Fred when the comic-junkie went off on a tangent.

"Cool man, they're the best. I mean Midnight Centurion's powers are so cool and Stella-Luna's a total babe."

"Uh huh," Tadashi avoided responding by taking a sip of his espresso. The taste suddenly seemed too strong, too sharp.

Sure, the Praetorians were good. Their abilities were…formidable. But Immortal Seven's tech was just as powerful. And while Honey would deny it and Gogo would throttle anyone who dared called them babes, Baymax had been known to report increased heart rate on Hiro's part whenever Honey walked by and he knew for a fact Wasabi had a crush on Gogo the size of the entire Eastern Commonwealth, strange as it may be.

"I heard they're making a special appearance in the _Tenno No Tanjobi _Festival this December. It'd be so awesome just to be in the same room as them, you know? See them in person?" Grabbing a dripping rag, Jason began swiping the stained countertop.

"Pretty cool." Tadashi agreed reluctantly, wishing not for the first time his team was the one being recognized in Emperor Daigo's annual birthday festival. Blocking out Jason's worshipful rant, his eyes wandering to the evening shadows outside the shop. Crowds of people meandered the brightly lit streets, typical for a Sunday evening.

"I'm so pumped to see Stella though –"

A flash of white suddenly caught his attention. Tadashi's brown eyes widened and his mouth parted slightly as a delicately framed woman paused in front of the coffee shop. She lingered uncertainly, glancing over her shoulder and the few glimpses he got of full pink lips and feathery black lashes and crystal blue eyes left his drink and mission utterly forgotten.

If he had to guess, he'd say she was from the E.U. One of the former Scandinavian countries, maybe. His mind ran through the possibilities before a surge in his testosterone levels decided that he didn't really care.

Because she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in all his twenty-one years of existence.

Her hair was so pale a blonde that it shone silver in the street lights. Illuminating the complicated braids coiled into a bun at the nape of her lithe neck. She stood for a moment on tiptoe, as if looking for someone, her movements fidgety and anxious. One gloved hand grasped the lacy collar of her dark plum blouse while the other skimmed the glass underneath the A of HAVEN. Somewhere in the back of his mind he found it strange that someone would be wearing gloves and long sleeves in the sweltering heat of August, but testosterone convinced him once again that didn't really matter. Tadashi couldn't – nor did he want to – stop his gaze from trailing downward. Past a teal skirt that ended just above her knees and exposed the curve of two some slender calves before disappearing into fitted black boots. The few inches of smooth, snow-white skin teased him, making him want to –

Abruptly, Tadashi tore his eyes away, a fiery flush blazing hot in his cheeks and traveling down his neck.

_What's wrong with you, idiot?_ He chastised himself. _Ogling some random woman's legs? Aunt Cass's taught you better than that! Besides you have bigger problems than that. _

And yet he couldn't resist one last peek. One more couldn't hurt –

Tadashi blinked.

Blinked again.

The woman was gone. Vanished like the thin strands of steam rolling up from his espresso. His brows slanted in confusion. How did she…? Surely he hadn't imagined her, right?

_Right…_

Whatever the case he had more important things to deal with. Namely, making sure Immortal Seven didn't have to suffer the Praetorians smug smirks when they found out they had babysitting duties… again, and Royal was caught and apprehended. They'd prove once and for all that the Immortal Seven's were a real team that could handle real villains.

Draining his cup and pushing up from the stool, Tadashi held out his wrist as he tugged up his sleeve. "How much do I owe you?"

Jason squinted at him with mild annoyance and Tadashi realized he must have cut off his rambling about…something. The other man glanced down at his net, scrolled, and said. "7 units."

"Seriously? That's up 2 units from last week."

"Hey man, I'm just the messenger." The barista unhooked his scanner from his belt and swiped it over Tadashi's wrist. A green light blinked, confirming the successful connection to the ID chip implanted there. "They keep telling me inflation's bad."

_Well, that's the understatement of the century._

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry, didn't mean to offend." Tadashi replied lightly. "Thanks for the coffee man." He turned to go. At the door, letting it hang ajar so that the November wind yanked at his pant legs, he added, "Hey, uh, good luck with Stella-Luna."

Jason grinned dreamily, shaking his head. "It's not going to happen anytime soon, but hey, a guy can always dream?"

"Yeah." Tadashi said thoughtfully, almost to himself, thinking of the silver haired girl. "I guess you're right."

With night fast approaching, but the temperate still ticking ever so steadily upward, Tadashi jogged all the way to his motorcycle. Dodging window shoppers and the like, he kept looking back, searching for the girl, and finding absolutely nothing.

Zero.

Zilch.

Maybe she really was a ghost. Some phantom spirit woman from First Era legends.

_Get over it_. He ordered himself the third time he almost plowed into an innocent speed walker and apologized profusely. It wasn't until he'd mounted his motorcycle and brought the engine roaring to life that he allowed himself to imagine. Rolling forward, he let himself ride faster and faster until he was barreling through alleyways.

_Get. Over. It. So what if you imagined her? She's way out of your league anyway._

Expect one part of him had to disagree. He was a hero after all. Technically he should be able to have any girl he wanted. And he wasn't oblivious to the way girls stared at him at SFI. Granted Gogo had been the one to point it out in a fit of frustration, but since then he'd noticed.

_You're never going to see her again._

_Shut up voice._

He swerved unto the freeway that led downtown to the college, jerking his visor down has hot wind pummeled his face slick with sweat.

_Come on. Focus on the mission. We need a different angle and everyone's counting one you. _

This could be their big break. He couldn't let one phantom girl blow it.

But for some stupid reason, Tadashi couldn't seem to keep the vision of moonlight skin and big doe eyes from searing into his mind.


	3. A Thief in Plain Sight

Elsbeth Dronning was tired of playing at law-abiding. She longed for the thrill of falling, swooping, swinging, shrouded by shadows. Baring her cyborg arm, the weight of her gun wrapped in her fingers. Of tiptoeing on the line between life and oblivion. There was once a time when she feared the rath of the law and followed it with all her might, but now she wondered how she ever could stand it all. Being illegal was just so much more… free. And so much more efficient.

A drop of perspiration slid down her temple as she stood, spine erect, fingers twisted, in the San Fransokyo police headquarters. Though that probably had more to do with the broiling August heat in the Japanese province of the Eastern Commonwealth that with any nervousness she felt. Nervousness, worry, unease; they were simply practiced emotions to fool the world.

All things considered, she could be a rather convincing actress when she wanted to be.

"You know hon… Elisabeth is it? Never understood you EU folks and your odd spellings, you might be cooler if you took those gloves off. You look like you're about to boil alive in that get up. Is that what they wear where you're from?" The secretary, a pudgy middle-aged Korean woman with streaks of neon pink through her hair, regarded her shrewdly. As she ran her eyes over the long sleeves of her blouse and tight, knee-high boots, Elsbeth fiddled with her gloves, deftly checking to make sure no metal parts were showing.

"_Els_beth." She corrected her automatically, withholding a comment of how Asian names were just as hard to pronounce, especially when attempting a passable Scandinavian accent. She glanced at the name card nestled in a fat, chuckling Buddha statue. _Ryo Seohyeon. _Try as she might, she was at a lost. "Please, just call me Elsa."

"Oooo, that's much easier. Pretty too. I bet you'll be driving the boys at SFI crazy next semester, 'specially with that accent. Makes you sound mysterious. I'll have to tell my daughter about you. She's been begging to dye her hair platinum blonde. And you said it's natural?"

"_Ja._"

"Lucky. Where did you say you were from? Sweden?"

"_Norge_ – I mean N-Norway." Elsa replied, mock-flustered. The blush that infused her cheeks with warmth helped.

_Pretty? _

No. Not pretty. Never pretty.

Never mind the boys at SFI, if Seohyeon ever had the misfortune to see her…eccentricities, Elsa imagined her wide nose would scrunch in disgust. After she turned her over to the police for being an unregistered cyborg.

"Oh! Norway." The secretary exclaimed peering at Elsa's records on her wall-net. "I've always wanted to go there, but they say there's a really nasty vigilante running around there. Have you ever heard of him?"

Elsa stiffened, a swell of anger lapping behind her serene expression. She knew what they thought of "him", swore she'd grown indifferent to the naysayers, assumed to could simply ignore it; she knew why she did this, the reasons, the need. She and others like her single-handedly saved them from some of the most dangerous of Earth's villains. Successful completion of her mission here would rid them of the worst. It shouldn't matter what they thought.

Concealing annoyance, but pleased with the cloak of anonymity that shrouded "his" identity, Elsa nodded, widening her eyes for effect. "I've heard rumors. He calls himself the Black Swan, or _Svart Svane_ in Norwegian."

Seohyeon perked up, no doubt drawn to the prospect of fresh gossip, "The Black Swan?"

Again Elsa nodded, weaving her customary tale with a slight smile.

"_Ja_. I don't think many people get the reference, but in the second era it was thought that black swans didn't exist and those who thought so were stupid to believe it."

She paused for effect. Seohyeon seemed to hang onto her every word. Fortunately, her fingers stilled over the files meant to transfer Elsa's updated citizenship records to her ID chip. _Perfect._ Time to work her magic.

"But then they found out they did. It wasn't suppose to exist, not according to leading scientists, but suddenly, there it was." Elsa shrugged. "That's about all I know. Except that the crime rate went down drastically in my city, Arendelle, since _he _showed up. Some people look to him as a symbol of hope, I suppose."

At the word "hope" the spell was broken. Wrinkling her nose as Elsa suspected she might, Seohyeon resumed her work.

"I hope you're not one of them." She huffed. "This city takes a lot of pride in its real heroes."

Elsa didn't respond, though on the tip of her tongue was the retort that heroes couldn't pull off half the work she did. But arguing was pointless. Vigilantes were only a step above villains as far as most people were concerned. God forbid they find out she didn't actually have powers, she mused, grinning on the inside. They'd want to catch her phantom self even more.

As Seohyeon tapped several lines of text into her file, Elsa casually gazed around the police headquarters. Her eyes skimmed over a net displaying the accolades of San Fransokyo.

Flinched, leaped back.

She froze, breath stalling, the swell of anger in her chest turning to fear and crashing like a wave against her heart. She'd recognize the slicked auburn hair, those calculated green eyes, that mocking smirk anywhere.

_Hans Weston._

Her fingers crawled up her left arm, her cyborg arm, stuffing down her fear with hatred. Perhaps her mission was to catch the Martian, but she swore that if she ever had the chance to capture that _traitor_, he'd pay ten, fifty, a hundred times over for what he'd done.

"Sweetie, I need your wrist if you want the transfer."

"Wha – oh! I'm sorry." Elsa peeled her right glove from her sticky wrist and thrust it out for Seohyeon to scan. The older woman flashed her scanner across it, not knowing it downloaded much more than her new identity. Elsa tugged her glove back into place, pale turquoise against plum and onyx.

"Um, thank you for your help," she said, clasping her hands. "I wouldn't have known what to do by myself."

_Legally that is._

Seohyeon beamed, "You're very welcome hon. Good luck at SFI. I'll bet that you'll have a handsome boyfriend a week into semester." Her eyes flittered back to her net.

"Um, thank you. Have a good evening." Elsa muttered, sidling towards the exit, forcing a smile before leaning against the door and slipping out into the artificially lighted night.

* * *

A moment later, Ryo Seohyeon raised her head, prepared to say goodbye to the delightful, if not strange Norwegian college transfer.

"You too – oh!" She peered around the immaculately kept police headquarters, lips pursed between her plump cheeks. _Where had she run off to? _She lifted herself halfway from her chair. Held the pose as she stared out the windows. Slowly lowered herself to her chair. Mentally checked off her monthly exercise goal.

"Odd." She murmured to the empty room, but shrugged and returned to her work.

And groaned, her mind boggled by the card game waging on her net screen. She was losing and the time had come to admit defeat. Steeping herself once again in the mundane necessities of her job, she didn't notice the tiny scrawl of text that alerted her of an error. After a full two minutes the words disappeared and poor Ryo Seohyeon wouldn't know about the stolen file until her superior called her into his office the following morning and presented her the pink slip.

* * *

It wasn't until she reached her apartment in downtown San Fransokyo that Elsa let herself fully relax. Her tensed muscles loosened. Her impeccable posture became less so. Sweat trickled down her back, chilled as it came into contact with the blasting air-conditioning.

Sagging against the closed door, she let out a long breath as she pressed her left hand, her cool, titanium hand to her damp forehead. She let her gloves drop to the floor in a heap and tugged her tucked blouse from her skirt, removing her cyborg hand from her brow and twining it and her cold metal arm around her waist. Groaning with delight, Elsa let herself sink to the floor, tearing off her boots and flopping her bare legs against the icy linoleum. The cold seeped into her calves and the sensation of sweetest relief made her consider never getting up.

Until Hans Weston's face suddenly swam behind her closed eyes.

"Elsa _hjem_ Elsa!" The high cry of a familiar robot pricked against the audio interfacing in her left ear. Elsa winced, despite the small smile curling her lips. She adjusted the sound with a thought, mentally connecting to the chip imbedded at the base of her skull, and its piercing chirps became bearable. Teasing out the pins edging her bun, she tugged her hair loose. By the clumsy thing rounded the corner, toddling to her side uncertainly on its disproportionate treads, she'd fanned the snowy blonde waves over her shoulders. "Home Elsa home!"

"Sun, moon, and stars Olaf, how many times have I told you to turn your volume down?" She chided lightly, reaching out and tapping out the access code on its panel, adjusting its volume manually. Olaf's paused mid picking up her discarded clothes with its pronged hands. Its lights blinked twice.

"Olaf Elsa help Elsa. Elsa Olaf stay away Mel. Mel mad Olaf Mel _gal_."

"Mel is _not_ crazy and if he's mad at you, it's probably your fault." She drew her legs up under her and stood with a spine-popping stretch. Her bare feet were silent as they padded across the cool tiles as she walked to the kitchen, the complete opposite of Olaf's noisy, rumbling treads and whirling fan. It rushed ahead in awkward bursts of speed then randomly guttered to a painfully slow crawl. Had it not been for the sentiment that clung to it like a maglev train to the skyway tracks looping around San Fransokyo, she would have reprogrammed the silly robot years ago. At least now it mostly spoke universal English instead of rambling in Norwegian. She'd rather avoid the neighbor's stares.

"Where is Mel anyway?" She peered into the fridge, wrinkled her nose, and scooped up a pint of strawberry ice cream from the freezer. Riffling through the silverware drawer, she found a spoon before the rising hair on the back of her neck alerted her of another presence in the room.

"Cleaning up the mess that piece of junk made. I thought we agreed to deactivate it when we relocated here." A low voice growled behind her. Olaf squeaked and darted behind her legs, ineffectively hiding its bulky body. Elsa patted its head, sighed, and pivoted to face a glowering Mel, fisting a hand to her hip. The other was occupied with a liberal scoop of frozen pink cream.

Towering nearly a foot and a half over her mere five foot four stature and built like a famous, second era bodybuilder, the only features that passed him off for her "brother" was his mop of white-blonde hair and pale blue eyes. Had it not been for the thin, contoured line carving into the side of his cheek – necessary to get to his access panel, but an engineering flaw on her part – it would have been impossible to tell that Mel wasn't human. Fortunately, with a little face paint, it could easily be disguised as a roguish scar. Unfortunately, passing him off as human tended to drive the female population crazy wherever he went, so during the day Elsa kept him confined to their…_base_ whenever possible.

"No," she finally replied around a full mouth. Swallowed. "You demanded that I deactivate Olaf and I said I'd think about it." She ran her tongue over the last drop on her spoon before glancing back at him. "And in case I wasn't clear, the answer's no."

"You were not clear. I don't recall you ever giving me an answer one way or another."

"Exactly my point."

Mel scowled and pushed away from the door frame, striding across the kitchen to cross his arms sullenly when he reached her side. "That's not very healthy." He commented, gesturing at her ice cream.

"Mel Elsa leave alone. Ice cream good _krem_."

"Shut it Olaf."

Elsa ignored them both, digging into the pint and mining another massive scoop. Despite his impressive understanding of human emotions – never mind his utter inability to grasp sarcasm – Mel never understood her decision to keep Olaf. He would be of better use sold as spare parts or at least holed up back home where he couldn't jeopardize their mission. She never tried to explain despite Mel's railing. How Olaf – for all his rambling gibberish and clumsy bobbling – was the closest thing she had of _her_.

"Did you accomplish what was needed at the police station?" Mel asked, snapping her from her reverie. Elsa offered him a triumphal smile in response, set the ice cream aside, rolled up her sleeves, and dashed her fingers across the tiny net implanted in her cyborg arm. Immediately a blue holographic screen flared up, displaying a root folder marked with a red CLASSIFIED.

"You took the whole file?!" Mel grunted incredulously, glaring at her. "It could have trackers on it! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that it's impossible to sort through details when I'm not physically connected to the computer. Besides, I couldn't just take of the city's blueprints, now could I?" She said calmly, running diagnostics for tracking devices.

One, two, a hidden third.

"You were actually thinking that?" Mel asked a moment later when her diagnostics completed their search and came back clean. Elsa didn't bother to answer. "Oh…that was sarcasm wasn't it?"

The hologram on her arm suddenly flashed with white light and a line of text scrolled across the blue disk.

ELSA, INCOMING CALL FROM JONAS GJETER. ACCEPT?

She immediately lurched upward.

"Call accepted"

Blue suddenly bathed the kitchen. The form of a balding man in his late forties appeared standing in the middle of her kitchen. He gazed around with eyes that always seemed to take in everything. Finally he turned them on her and observing her bedraggled appearance, his mouth quirked.

"Rough night?" Jonas asked kindly. In a fatherly sort of way that made her chest twinge.

"Hardly. I've had much worse." She picked up her ice cream again, gnawing at shred of strawberry, watching as his brow puckered and his usual smile creased into a frown. Her stomach churned. "Is something wrong?"

"Depends upon your definition of wrong." Jonas replied, his expression unreadable. "You risking your life again to find Number Thirteen, after ten straight missions, that's wrong in my book."

Sighing, Elsa returned her ice cream to the freezer, knowing otherwise it would be soup by the time she returned to it. "We've already discussed this." She said quietly, letting the waft of cold from the freezer settle across her skin before spinning around. "And you agreed that I'm the only one qualified to do this. No powers, remember? That's essential to the mission." Waving her arm at Mel and Olaf, "please, if you two would leave us alone for a moment?"

"Olaf Mel Olaf follow!" It zipped out the door to the hall, out of sight.

"I do not take orders from you."

But grumbling, Mel did indeed follow the smaller robot's lead. Jonas waited a minute before knotting his arms across his thin, wiry chest. As her old mentor always did when settling in for an argument. She tensed.

"You don't have to do this Elsa." She hiked a challenging brow.

"I don't have to do this, or you don't want me to?"

"Both."

Pressing her lips together, glowering fiercely, Elsa mirrored his stance, annoyed he stood nearly a full head over her.

"Don't be ridiculous. You of all people should know why I have to do this. We've never been this close before Jonas. How can you ask me to throw thirteen years of my life away when I almost have him?"

"Because it's too dangerous!" Abruptly shouting, Jonas threw his hands up, and Elsa was taken aback of how anguished he sounded. "The others – Mimic, Shadow Touch – they were just stepping stones, necessary villains in the way of Thirteen. You didn't care about them. But him…" he shook his head, "you're too emotionally attached to the situation and he'll know it. He'll use it against you." His eyes pleaded with her. "You're like a daughter to me Elsbeth. I can't lose you like this. You've done enough. Whatever revenge is driving you to keep at this just let it go. _Please._"

"Who says I'm going to lose? I've never lost before and I don't plan to start now." She snapped, clenching her jaw and jutting out her chin. Raking her hands through her hair she turned her back to him, so she didn't have to put up with his begging. "And while we're on this topic, who says this is all about my revenge?! You know what Thirteen is capable of and if he's come to Earth it can only mean one thing. So no, I'm not abandoning this mission. People here _need _me. It's my duty to protect them. I have leads in San Fransokyo. Good leads. And once I start at SFI, I'll have more than enough to end this for good!"

Elsa hadn't realized she had been shouting until the sound barrier she'd installed in the apartment sent her a message. Drawing in angry gasps of breath, she uncurled her clenched fists, wincing as her nails left half-moons in her palms.

"Elsa –"

"I'll send you a comm. after I do recon."

"But –"

"Good bye Jonas." Jabbing her net, she ended the call. She grabbed her ice cream from the freezer before stalking to her room. Mel and Olaf were in the hall, and tried to look occupied when she passed them wordlessly, though they knew that she knew they'd been eavesdropping.

In her room, she fell into the squishy down comforter and breathed in the soothing scent of lavender and chamomile, though the familiar fragrance did nothing to calm her. She flipped over on her back, snapped her fingers and the solar hologram on her ceiling winked into view. Filling her mouth with icy strawberry she zoomed in on Pluto, small compared to the rest of the planets, but studded with settlements.

Home.

Or at least, home as she remembered it to be before the war.

Only after she'd drank in enough of the sight of the artificial atmosphere that cast the planet in pale blue, of snow covered mountains and a picturesque fairy tale castle that seemed to be entirely made of glass did Elsa remember that she'd forgotten to ask about her.

Her long gone best friend.

The girl who didn't know of their beautiful home world.

Her precious, darling little sister.

Anna.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry. I know I'm a little late, but better late than never right? Thanks devourer of books (I love your name btw) for your follow. And Anonymous for your review.  
**


	4. All of 13 Percent

Keeping to the back roads once leaving the freeway, Tadashi saw the bright lights streaming from the main campus building eight minutes before he reached the grounds. They filtered through the alleys like artificial sunlight, like a beacon rising above the low apartment buildings.

Fractured by staggering shadows and off-kilter laughter.

Though he'd ridden this way countless times – it was faster than going around drop-off to where the campus perched on the highest hill in the city – his muscles always kinked into knots when he passed the downtown slums. Something burning made him sneeze. The whooshing air here seemed thicker, denser, more suffocating than uptown. But it shouldn't have made him uneasy.

Inferno – heck, Immortal Seven – had faced worse, far worse, than a smog clogged alleyway.

Even so, he relaxed only as his engine gunned uphill, leaving the slums behind.

Finally on campus grounds, the air freshened with the mingling scents of freshly shorn grass and churned dirt and nimbly twisting trees abloom with delicate pink flowers. Tadashi envied them; perhaps the only bit of organic matter that hadn't withered under the brutal heat. Abigail's work, no doubt. The cherry blossoms were rather fond of her. As was the hedge maze, the peonies, clematis, petunias. The lotus blooms dotting the pond with vibrant bursts of gilded magenta absolutely adored her. Even the grass had a little more spring to their fibers whenever she walked by, as though living up to their potential. The advantages of being a botany elemental no doubt. Tadashi tried not to begrudge her. After all her powers were truly beautiful and they made the SFI gardens the best place in the world to study…

Or check out girls, Hiro's favorite pastime these days. And Tadashi had thought bot-fighting was bad.

Stowing his motorcycle in his designated parking space, a volt of magnetism locking the wheels so that they hovered several inches above the pad. It wouldn't release without pressing his fingertips to the raised panel dotting the front of every parking pad, so it was virtually impossible to steal. Gogo's design. In three years she'd come a long way in magnetic suspension. Now a senior like the rest of the team – Hiro naturally skipped a year and would be the youngest SFI graduate ever at seventeen – her invention had been patented and plans were set to install them throughout the city. Which gave her all the time she needed to focus on what really drove her: speed.

Tadashi jogged up the steps, flashed his wrist under the door scanner, and hurried indoors. It was late enough that only Chhay, head of the janitorial staff, and his busily working androids, Lavinia, Golem, and Upton remained in the lobby. Naturally he was overseeing the preparation for tomorrow's opening ceremony. Tadashi couldn't help but pity the man, though he would never tell Chhay that. An accident fifteen four years prior had taken his right calf, forcing him to replace it with a cybernetic one. Since then, denigrated to second-class status, the only real job he'd managed to hold was that of a janitor. Many parents had protested, said they didn't want their little darlings in the presence of a half-metal monstrosity. Callahan hadn't cared and for as long as Tadashi could remember he'd never seen him so furious. The mayor had gotten involved, claimed it went against the Cyborg Protection Act, but Robert Callahan would not be swayed. So Chhay remained, and SFI was better for it.

Once, Tadashi had glimpsed the mental appendage, stumbled upon Chhay fiddling with the wiring and singeing his fingers when sparks fizzled along the lines. The sight had made him nauseous, added a slither of disquiet whenever he spoke to the janitor. Knowing that in a small part of his skull, tucked under his brain, a jumble of circuits lay, controlling a part of him…

"Hey Chhay," he called, pushing aside his misgivings. The seventy-something-year-old slowly nodded to Tadashi's raised hand of greeting, a smile creasing deep divots into his face.

"Working late tonight, sonny?" He replied, voice thickly accented. "I ought to commend you. S'not even first week and you're already– Not there Golem, ya bolt-head. It'll streak."

"Yeah." Tadashi said, slowing slightly. "Got tons of stuff to sort out with the gang before freshman orientation tomorrow. Hiro and I are doing the keynote presentation." It wasn't a lie, technically. They had planned to give everything a final run through before that stupid message from C.A.D.

"Well don't let this old man's rambling keep you." Chhay grinned, shooing him along with a knurled, vein-webbed. "I'll be looking forward to seeing it."

"Thanks. Hey, do you want me to take another look at Golem? It looks like it's about to do something illegal with that."

"Golem!" Chhay whipped around, more agile than most would give him credit for, and deftly snatched a buffing tool from the faulty android's outstretched prongs, before it smacked Upton over the head. Before it could react, he jammed a finger into its power button.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer." He grumbled. "Haven't the head for programming. Thank you."

"No, problem." Tadashi grunted, hoisting the heavy droid into his arms. "I'll look for you in the crowd. Make a shout out to the janitorial staff."

"What, these useless lugs?" Chhay snorted. "No, you'll be better off thanking Mr. Callahan. He's the reason we're all here after all."

"Can't argue with that."

"Now get on with you. It's getting late and I need to make it back to my apartment before curfew sets in." He patted his cyborg leg wistfully and though it was concealed by his baggy uniform, Tadashi winced.

"Later Chhay."

He quickened his pace when he rounded the corner, though the weight of the android strained on his arms. Despite speeding and taking the shortcut, he was pushing his promise on forty-five minutes. The robotics laboratory was on the top floor, five stories up, so Tadashi headed for the elevator with all intentions of going down. Even at this late, it'd been idiotic to hold a top secret meeting in the most frequented department on campus. Might as well scream to the world they were superheroes. Oddly enough Fred, of all people, had solved that minor issue four years back though all things considered, the location mainly, it shouldn't have been surprising. Punching the glowing panel for the basement level, Tadashi's distorted reflection shifted between its feet as he waited.

He didn't have to wait long – SFI elevators had a rep for being fastest in the city – but as the silver doors glided open, pulling his reflection in two, he immediately wished he had.

Dark blonde hair slicked stiffly, blue eyes narrowing, mocking when they saw him. Teddy Banks, womanizer, class A jerk-off, and Tadashi's bitterest rival strode out of the elevator like he owned the place. Which he did, unofficially, indirectly. His father, Cyrus Banks III, owned half the city and personally paid for the main campus building.

Regrettably.

"Hamada." Tadashi didn't know if Banks was surprised or annoyed to see him standing there. If he had to guess, probably a mixture of both. He himself felt something akin to disgust. Loathing. A mixture of both. "It's been a while."

Three and a half months to be exact. A desperately needed respite, but not nearly long enough.

Tadashi steeled his expression, though a muscle twitched in his cheek, and shouldered pass him, veering for the stairwell.

"Evening, Banks."

To his chagrin, the other boy fell in step with him, tone amiable yet laced with an undertone of distain. Tadashi's thinly veiled patience dissolved like ice beneath the August sun.

"What do you want?"

"Where're you going Hamada?" Banks ignored him. "Last I checked you're a robotics major and the robotics lab is… fifth floor, right?" As if he didn't know. They had the same major. Grinding his teeth as spasm's of almost irrational anger throbbed against his skull, Tadashi grit out.

"Yeah, well last I checked the med labs are on the basement floor and seeing as I double major in neuroscience…" He yanked the stairwell door open and drummed down, readjusting his grip on Golem, resisting the urge to trip Banks when he followed. That or drive a fist into his nose. Tadashi wasn't exactly picky which. Unfortunately his hold on Golem prevented him from doing either. Stupid android.

"Oh, that's right." Banks snapped his fingers in mock-remembrance, though each knew very well what the other majored, double-majored, and minored in. The jerk-off in question doubled in robotics and architecture.

"Look, we both know you have better things to do than follow me around and I have stuff I need to take care of for tomorrow. What do you want?" Tadashi snapped. He began counting steps to cool his head. _Easy Hamada_

"Why, nothing Hamada. Just thought we'd do some catching up."

"Well, like I said, I'm busy." Nineteen more left. He let his feet drum faster, blurring.

"Oh right, Callahan's favorite student is doing the robotics presentation tomorrow." Banks sneered. "How could I forget?" _Ten, nine._

"Is that what this is about?" Taunting, Tadashi laughed. "Jealous much?"

Banks glared at him for a full step before his lips twisted mockingly. "I wouldn't act so high and mighty Hamada." _Six, five, four_. "Considering Immortal Seven's been demoted to my command. How many times is this now? Five?"

_One._

They hit the bottom of the stairwell in the same step, Tadashi leaped forward and blocked the door before Banks could get through. Golem was on the floor, carelessly tossed aside. Tadashi was forced to look up to meet Banks' sneer. 6'1" vs. 6'4". Always shorter. Smaller, leaner, lankier.

Weaker.

Always weaker than the Midnight Centurion.

"How do you know about that?"

"My, have I hit a nerve?"

"How did you hear about our demotion?!"

"So you were demoted from the Poker Plays case. I was just taking guess. Knew it had to happen sooner or later. Is that were you're going now? Having a little meeting with your team to –"

Something in the back of his mind snapped. He didn't think, didn't bother to realize that the anger guiding his actions wasn't his. Lunging forward, he grabbed Banks by the shirt and spun him around, throwing him against the door, his head falling back with a satisfying thump. Banks grimaced, waited long enough for him to recoil, for his arm to pull back before darting to the side. Tadashi's fist smacked through only air. A heel suddenly drove into his stomach and he doubled, gasping as the breath left his lungs. He spun, tensed, circled, clutching his abdomen. Banks wasn't even breathing hard, limbs relaxed, smirk easy.

"Come on Hamada." He sneered. "I'm begging you."

"Shut up!"

A tiny voice suddenly hissed in the back of his mind, slithering into his subconscious.

_Hit him, hurt him, crush him. Make him fall, make him writhe, make him bleed._

_What the – _He shook his head roughly to clear it. That wasn't his voice. It wasn't him. It couldn't be.

Banks cruel smile widened.

And it suddenly hit him.

_Idiot. You frickin' idiot. He's an Empath, stupid. _Tadashi stumbled, backing away.

"Something wrong Hamada?" Banks drawled, leaning against the stairwell.

"Stop it." He said uncertainly, a thread of fear cutting through his anger. The other boy flashed him pearly white teeth, rolling his shoulders menacingly.

"Stop what?"

"You know exactly what you're doing!" Tadashi yelled, gripping his temples. "Stop screwing with my mind!"

"What, this?" Banks glanced at his hand, fisting it. Tadashi yelped, clinging to the wall as a well of sadness, misery sloshed through his senses. Tears flooded his eyes. Releasing his fingers one by one, watching the saline stream over Tadashi's cheeks, the other boy snickered. "Sorry. Didn't know I was doing it. Powers can be like that. But then, you wouldn't know, would –"

The door to the labs slicked open.

"Tadashi?" The scent of cherry blossoms enveloped him as a slim arm wrapped gently around his shoulders. "Oh my gosh, Dashi, are you alright?" He looked up to find Abigail's compassionate blue eyes anxiously searching his from behind her thin-framed glasses. Her palm was to his cheeks, brushing at the wetness before he could respond.

"I'm…fine." He muttered, confused by her fussing, her closeness.

"Yeah, Tadashi, are you feeling alright man?" Banks asked, pushing away from the stairwell, stepping forward. Stepping in front of him, Abby suddenly shot Banks a withering glare.

"Cut the bullcrap, Mr. Banks." She snapped. "I'm not stupid. I know the effects of an Empath when I see them." Banks' brow crinkled. He frowned, shaking his head. So easily becoming an innocent bystander.

"Sorry Miss. Callaghan, but I don't know why you're so upset. I didn't do anything."

"Oh, don't you dare –"

"It's fine Abs." Tadashi shrugged off her arm, offering a smile that only tightened as he stood, feeling the effects of the bruise forming. "We were just...talking."

"But –"

"Really, I'm fine." He met her gaze meaningfully. After a moment of indecision she sighed, nodded, flipped her ponytail.

"Well then. Mr. Hamada, I require your assistance in the labs please. If you'll excuse us Mr. Banks."

"Of course Miss Callaghan. I'll hope to see you tomorrow?" Smiling, Banks winked, the epitome of charm. Tadashi tensed as he scooped up Golem's bulky frame again, a sour taste in his mouth. Abby might have been two years older than either of them, but he'd always felt protective of her. The big brother in him coming through.

"I wouldn't count on it. Come on Dashi." With one last pointed glare, twining her hand through the crook of his arm, Abigail stalked them through the still open door.

"Yeah, don't keep the lovely Miss. Callaghan waiting, _Dashi_." The last taunt managed to slither through the shrinking crack before the door clicked shut behind them.

Silence filled the white-washed lab halls for approximately ten seconds.

"What happened back there?" Abby demanded.

"I had it handled." Tadashi grumbled, pulling his arm from Abby's taut fingers. She stubbornly held on for a split-second longer before huffing, indignant. Spinning on him, she clasped her hands to her hips, her sea blue eyes flashing dangerously.

"Oh? You half-collapsed against the wall was you handling it? He should be expelled for that Tadashi." She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and back. "Use of powers inside of campus grounds in strictly prohibited and he was using them to hurt you –"

"I told you I'm fine!" He snapped, raising his voice a notch, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I don't need you running to my rescue every frickin' time I have an issue with that moron just because you have powers and I don't! I don't need your help Abigail. I can take care of myself, okay?"

As soon as burst past his lips, Tadashi immediately regretted them. Abby made a face and shifted her gaze to the med labs lining the corridor. In the reflection Tadashi noticed a faint blush appearing on her tanned olive cheeks. Which was weird. He would have preferred if she'd shouted back or stalked off in a huff, like she usually did when he went ahead and said something idiotic. He knew how to deal with that. The recent development of the silent treatment, not so much.

"Sorry." Clearing his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as a blush crept over his skin. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I'm just…" He shrugged. "I got it under control and I'd rather keep it between us. Do me a favor and don't tell the others. Especially Robert."

"Whatever."

"He-ey." He whined, poking her shoulder. "I said I was sorry."

Silence. Abby seemed to be fighting back a smile, but instead wrinkled her nose just as it was appearing to spread to her cheeks. Tilting his head to the side Tadashi dashed a grin at her, then elbowed her lightly in the side.

"Come on Abs. You know I didn't –Ow! What was that for?" He rubbed the place just below his ribs, where Abby had just jabbed him with her elbow. Hard. Right over the reforming bruise.

"For being an idiot sometimes." She laughed, darting sideways when he tried to muse her ponytail. "Come on. The others are waiting. I think we've come to a decision." He winced.

"Do I dare ask what the verdict is?"

"Better than you think. Gogo and Hiro calmed down some, so you shouldn't be hearing the vigilante cry for the time being."

"Whoa, how'd you ever manage that?"

"Easy. I just reminded them you'd lose funding." Smiling smugly, Abby waved her wrist under the scanner at the end of the corridor, letting them into the adjacent hall. "Plus they'd sick ever last team in the city on you and I'm pretty sure they know where you all live."

"No kidding."

"Ha ha Hamada."

They stopped in front of the girl's bathroom. The forever OUT OF ORDER scrolled across its display panel, shining scarlet. A mystery to all SFI students. How could it be that the renowned robotics institute, outfitted with the latest and greatest tech, annually refuse to fix a simple problem with their plumbing? It was genius really. The door was always locked and only the nine of them, Immortal Seven and the Callaghans, knew the code. It was the perfect place to hold meetings without worry of being stumbled upon by an unsuspecting student.

Abby typed in the bypass code, fingers flying across the access pad. The red light flipped to green and the door ground beeped open. Bright light pooled into the darkened hall.

"Tadashi is here." Baymax helpfully announced.

"Dashi!"

"Finally. We've been waiting _ forever_."

"Mr. Hamada, so nice of you to join us."

"Took you long enough."

"I upgraded your motorcycle weeks ago and this is how you repay us?"

"Wait, so you didn't bring coffee with you? Seriously dude?" This last comment, delivered by a very much put out Fred, brought on an unexpected chuckle. Tadashi grinned.

"Really? I would have wasted all my savings just on your order."

"I would have restrained myself."

"Doubtful." Gogo quipped, popping a bright pink bubble right next to Wasabi ear, causing him to drop his net screen and yelp.

"Knock it off woman!"

Hiro snickered, fist bumping her as he took a slurp of his soda. Then cringed. Glanced at Honey and continued drinking quietly.

"Tadashi, we're so glad you're here." Honey Lemon interrupted, her gentle voice instantly dispelling the beginnings of an argument. "Thanks for finding him Abby." Her hazel eyes crinkled in an almost teasing smile that Tadashi didn't quite understand. Maybe they were sharing a private joke…

"Nothing to it." Casually, Abby slipped past him to the circular table set up in the open space of bathroom, where the others were sitting. Baymax stood over Hiro's shoulder, calmly surveying the surroundings. The room was rounded and studded periodically with showers, the actually bathroom stalls through another doorway. Painted pale pink and accented with flower bouquets, it wasn't his favorite meeting place, but it worked exceptionally well. The vending machine for instance was a nice touch.

Sitting between Honey and Abby, Tadashi addressed the gathering.

"So, Abby told me you guys," he glanced at the girls, "and gals," Gogo snorted, "have come up with a decision."

"Yeah," Hiro muttered. "A stupid one. I'm not working with Legion or Ferryman again after the crap we went through last time. You know they're going to make us look back. We might as when drop the case entirely."

"He has a point there. Hubris royally screwed with my suit last time we did patrol. I had to debug the entire thing." Wasabi grumbled. Gogo raised her eyebrows.

"Like you wouldn't have done that anyway."

"Yeah, but he made it necessary. I found a virus in the program's main frame. You what happens when the lasers aren't balanced!"

"Total protonic reversal!"

Burying his head in his arms, Wasabi groaned as through in pure agony. "Okay, you seriously need to stop watching second-era movies dude. That's not even a thing! It's scientifically impossible."

"If Egon says it's a thing it's a thing."

"From a stupid movie about ghosts coming back to life." Fred nearly choked on his Snickers bar.

"They were still dead, man! Ghosts can't come back to life, give me a –"

"Boys." Abby cleared her throat, effectively silencing Wasabi and Fred. "Back on track please. Tadashi," he felt his cheeks warm uncomfortably when she rested her palm on his shoulder. Honey's teasing smile was back. "What do you think we should do?"

He blew out a frustrated breath of air and laced his fingers behind his head, hating how the final decision always came back to him. Stalling he flicked a questioning look to his mentor, Robert Callaghan, only to find the older man watching him thoughtfully. Slowly, he nodded, confirming Tadashi's sinking suspicions. If they didn't keep the case, if they dropped out, it'd look petulant. If they stayed, cracked the case, they wouldn't get credit, but a real hero's only goal should be putting villains like Royal behind bars.

Not getting credit.

The credit that would likely bump them up from their Class B hero status.

He barely held back a pained groan.

"We keep the case. Guys, here me out." He raised his hands, placating when the protests burbled up. Hiro shot him a look that clearly said he thought his older brother was a traitor. "We'll be extra careful. Pair up, watch the other's back. Like in the Vortex case. We make it impossible for them to sabotage our gear. Abby," he turned and found that she was staring at him with admiration and he was blushing again. Geez, what was with her today? "Uh, would you mind tagging along for back up? We could really use an elemental on the team."

"I'd love to." She grinned brightly with a smile that rivaled Honey at her giddiest and _she _practically glowed at times.

"Yeah, well…right. So, how's that for a plan?"

"It's about 13 percent of a plan." Grumbled Hiro. "Really? Just make sure they don't screw with our stuff? We're doomed."

"Look Hiro, I don't know what to tell you. Yeah, it's all of 13 percent of a plan. But it's just until the case ends and by then we'll be able to prove we can do this without the Praetorians. You'll survive."

"I have to agree with Tadashi on this." Mr. Callaghan added in his deep voice. "This is like a bad storm. You just have to wait it out until it breaks."

"Or you could always invent something to go around it. Unbelievable." Hiro said exasperatedly, abruptly standing and pushing back from the table. "I'm going to go work on the presentation unless you think Teddy Banks and his team should just take over that too seeing as they're obviously more qualified. Let's go Baymax." He stormed away, the white robot toddling after him in his decidedly less dignified manner.

All seven flinched as the door slammed shut.

"Well," Gogo stretched and propped her feet up on the table. "That could have gone better."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Honey asked Tadashi tentatively. He shook his head, annoyed at how immature his brother had taken it.

"No, he'll be fine. Baymax is probably telling him that his serotonin levels are sky high like they always are. I'll talk to him later." He stretched his arms over his head, working out the kinks in his neck. "Meeting's over anyway. I better help him with the finishing touches so he doesn't go break something. Honey , Wasabi, keep digging stuff up on Royal and show Abby the files so she's up to date. See if you can find something we've missed. Gogo and Fred, do you mind scanning the checkpoints later. "

"No problem."

"Already there."

"Mr. Hamada." With a warm smile, Callaghan clapped his shoulder as Tadashi turned to leave, guiding him to a slightly more private section of tile by one of the rose-curtained showers. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his friends waiting for him, curious.

"Yeah Professor?"

"We have a new girl transferring tomorrow. For her senior year."

"And this applies to me because…" Transfers happened all the time and Callaghan never specifically sought him out because of them. Mouth twitching slightly, the professor nodded in understanding.

"I know you have a lot on your plate at the moment, but she's a double major like yourself. Robotics and neuroscience. Actually I think she specializes in cybernetics." Tadashi raised a brow. Impressive.

"Smart girl."

"Yes indeed. She was the top of her class at the Arendelle University of Sciences." Whistling low, Tadashi nodded appreciatively. A.U.S was supposed to be nearly impossible to get into and if this new girl had been top of her class, then sun, moon, and stars they needed her on their robotics team stat.

"She's Norwegian then?" Callaghan nodded.

"I was hoping you and the team could take her under your wing so to speak. Show her the ropes, maybe?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll find her in the crowd after orientation. What's her name?"

"Elspeth Dronning."

"Elspeth…"

"Though I think she prefers to be called Elsa."

* * *

**A/N: Hello everyone. Sorry I haven't posted in over a month. Had to finish stuff up for school and whatnot. You know, all that joyous fun stuff. Anyway public service announcement so I avoid ticking off a bunch of Lunatics: This story is heavily based off of the Lunar Chronicles universe, but won't contain any characters or events from the series, a fact that I horribly forgot to mention in the last post (So much shame). Marissa Meyer is absolutely incredible and I love her books to death. Plus I need something lunar-chronically to focus on to make the wait for Winter and Stars Above bearable. And Heartless, while we're at it. Must resist the urge to fangirl, but has anyone read Fairest?! Levana, that woman...**

**Anywho, that should answer your question Frostbite. My apologies. Thank you to The Fall Out Girl (yes, the title is based on the song), Lisa von Cooper (Really? Awesome. I'm usually terrible with dumping expo), and The 8000th Salad Plate (love your name btw). You're all so sweet! Anyway, hope you all enjoyed Ch.4!**


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